Origin of the Lies
by PteraWaters
Summary: Connor makes an appearance in this 3rd installment of my Angel/Spike series, after 'Underneath the Grief'. Will the guys be able to save Angel's son from his fate using the info Spike gets from the Powers that Be? You'll have to read to find out!
1. Part 1

_A/N: Hola, peoples! This is the third installment in my Angel/Spike series after "A Different Hole in the World" and "Underneath the Grief". You'll probably want to read those two before starting here, but to each his own. I welcome - nay, crave - reviews and comments, so please go ahead and let me know if you have any opinions about each chapter. I'm updating in one-chapter-per-day intervals, as usual. Be on the lookout for those daily updates!_

_**Spoiler alert** for the previous two episodes and a little summary in case you want it - Spike inherited the visions from Cordelia, allowing him and Angel to save Fred from Illyria's demon essence. However, Wesley was killed when he stepped into the chamber as Illyria was being expelled. Grieving over the loss of his friend, Angel allows himself to be with Spike and they start sleeping together. Soon it is revealed that Fred's brain has done the wacky and Illyria's personality is still in there, along with her own. Hi-jinks ensue, including the death of the traitorous Knox. Spike spends all his nights in Angel's bed now, and the relationship between them deepens, though neither will admit it out loud. Seeking more information about the Senior Partners and the coming apocalypse, Angel, Spike and Gunn rescue Lindsey MacDonald from a torturous holding dimension, where Gunn must take his place. Lindsey fills them in on the Senior Partners' plan, telling them it's already in motion and it looks like Angel has chosen the wrong side._

_Anyway, on to this next episode, which I hope you like._

_~Ptera  
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Origin of the Lies - Part 1

I woke up screaming. It wasn't the first time this had happened to me; it wasn't even the first time since I'd started having visions. Unfortunately I was sleeping with my face right next to Angel's ear, head resting on his shoulder, nestled between his arm and his chest. When I yelled in pain, he woke with his hand clasped to his ear, jumping out of bed completely naked. Within a second he had a sword in his hand, ready for a fight. Ignoring his nakedness - which is something I don't often do - I curled into a fetal position, grasping my head while I waited for the vision to come and the pain to pass.

"Jesus Christ, Spike," said Angel, kneeling back down on the bed next to me and placing a hand on my shoulder. "What do you see?"

"There's a boy, a young man," I muttered through gritted teeth. "There are some demons in a van, a white van, that are going to attack him."

"Okay," said Angel, leaving my side to put on underwear and pants. "Do you see where we need to go?"

"Yeah." The pain was lessening now, and I could focus on what The Powers that Be were trying to tell me. "Out in the suburbs somewhere," I announced, "Pasadena. There's a house number: 210 Pine Drive. No, Pine Street."

The blackness returned behind my eyelids and I opened my eyes, to see Angel open-mouthed and his brow in a pained furrow. "What?" I asked him.

"No," he breathed, grabbing the rest of his clothes and shoving them on as he insisted, "no, no, no, _no_!"

I got out of bed and found my pants, stepping into them as I asked Angel, "What? Do you know who lives there?"

"You could say that." Angel was almost fully dressed at this point. "Spike, can you be ready to go in the next five seconds?"

"Uh, sure," I said, grabbing a shirt and pulling it over my head.

He sat on the bed to pull on his shoes, "Because I won't wait for you otherwise."

I buttoned my jeans and grabbed my boots and my jacket, following Angel to the lift without putting them on. "Who is this kid? Why is he so important?"

The lift doors opened and we entered, Angel stone faced and ignoring my questions.

"Angel! What's going on?" As the lift descended, I pulled my boots onto my feet, keeping an eye on my silent partner. What wouldn't he tell me? It's not like I don't know all the evil things he's done. All the pain he's caused. Especially to me.

In the car park under the building, Angel took a running start out of the lift, grabbing the keys for one of the closest cars from the board. I had to jog to keep up with him as he started the engine of the Viper, barely making it into the car before he pealed out, rubber screeching.

"Angel, you'd better start talking, mate. What's so important about this kid?"

"Spike," he warned, his voice barely more than a growl. He drove through the late afternoon streets of LA much faster than one would have thought possible. I buckled my seat belt, not to avoid injury, but to avoid tumbling over onto Angel whenever we took an especially sharp right turn.

A thought occurred to me and I couldn't resist torturing Angel with it. "Oh, is he your boy on the side, then?"

"What?" Angel shot me a disbelieving and disgusted look as we barreled down a straight away toward the suburbs. "No, Spike! That's –! No." A small part of me was relieved. Okay, maybe it was a huge bloody part of me that was relieved.

"What then? This info could be useful to the mission. To protecting this boy. You want me to follow you into this blind?"

"No." Angel's jaw was clenched and his knuckles were turning whiter on the steering wheel with every passing block. He sighed loudly through his nose, sounding frustrated and furious. I often have that affect on him, the ponce. Lately, though – since we've been sleeping together – sex tends to set everything to rights. Or maybe it's letting him drink my blood. Sex and blood, it's always one of the two, innit?

"So spill, Peaches. What am I getting into here?"

"Fine," he muttered, voice still low and dangerous. "He's my son."

Huh? I sat totally confused for a couple seconds. The only thing my mind could come up with was, "You sired this kid? You've sired a bunch of us, Angel. Why's this one so important?"

"He's not a vampire," Angel growled, piloting the car onto the freeway at breakneck speed. "He's mine, flesh and blood."

"As in you're his _father_?"

"Yes."

"How?" If Angel had fathered a son before he died, the lad would be long grown and dead, dust and ashes in the ground.

"The universe owed me a life."

"And somehow this translates into a son?" Trying to recall my vision, I supposed that the boy was in his late teens. That would make him about two decades old, born right during the time Angel had spent living in gutters, feeding off vermin and generally pissing his afterlife away. It didn't make any sense. "You didn't start fighting the good fight until what, 'bout eight years ago? How did you earn a life from the _universe_ before then?"

"He was born two years ago." Angel gave me a harsh look as I snorted, saying, "There was a dimensional portal involved. I really don't want to get into this now."

"How come no one told me you had a son? How come _you_ didn't tell me?"

"I'm the only one who remembers. Even Connor doesn't remember who he is, so don't you dare tell him." Angel was speaking to me like I was an untrustworthy child. First off, I'm a good hundred and thirty-one, so he has no right speaking to me like that. Even though he does more often than I'd like. And second, I've been very trustworthy since I got my soul. Scout's honor.

I studied his face as we drove, noting the pain and the worry. If Angel was a father, and his son was in trouble, his actions made a lot more sense. I actually started getting worried for Angel and for his son - Connor he had said. This worry was one of the hazards of caring for someone, of falling in love with someone. Not that I would actually tell Angel I was falling. He'd probably kick me out on my ass if I dared to say it out loud.

"I won't tell the whelp on you, pet. If you ask it of me."

"Please, Spike," he implored, taking the exit toward Pasadena. "Things got really bad before. That's why I had them change his memory, give him a new life. He can't know who I am."

"Your secrets are safe with me," I purred, trying to lighten the mood a little bit. Angel's scornful glance before he returned to driving told me I had failed miserably. Shit, this was going to be a bad one.

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_A/N: Hey, look. I couldn't help but post this story a day early. In payment for this extra dose of Angel/Spike entertainment, please leave reviews. They make me super happy!_


	2. Part 2

Origin of the Lies – Part 2

As we weaved in and out of traffic, making our way through the winding suburban streets, a white van flew past in front of us. Angel swore, but I yelled, "That's it! That's the demon van!" Angel swung the car into a wide left-turn much too quicklyand the danger of it sent an exciting thrill up my throat. Was it entirely inappropriate that I have fun while we were on our way to save Angel's son from a brutal demon attack? If I have to ask, the answer's probably yes, right?

"So the van itself is a demon?" asked Angel as we tailed it, weaving through the streets and trying to catch up. For a large vehicle, that van had impressive horsepower.

"No, you git. Demons are _driving_ the van."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, that's the van I saw in my vision."

Angel sped up, trying to cut off the van, when it made a sharp right turn, losing us as we flew past the turn. Angel hung the next right, speeding down an empty street parallel to the one the van rumbled down. I caught a glimpse of it as we passed an alley, confirming we were gaining on it. At the next cross-street, Angel turned right again, then left directly after the van blew past us.

So we were on its tail again. The streets grew more residential as we chased the van, big pine trees lined along them. Obviously losing patience, Angel brought the nose of our car to the right of the van's back bumper, saying, "Hang on!"

Angel jerked the wheel to the left, trying to spin the van, to stop it. However, just then the van sped up and made a sharp left turn, towards the boy from my vision. The van slammed Connor into the house behind him, pinning him to the concrete support at the corner of the house's garage. A bright plume of blood sprayed from the boy's mouth, staining the white bonnet of the van.

"No!" screamed Angel, slamming on the breaks and jumping out of the car without even putting it in park. I pulled the emergency break and killed the engine before following Angel out into the daylight. At least it was nearing sunset and the tall pines shaded most of the ground between the car and the house. Angel, the moron, didn't even think of the danger before bolting toward his son.

I dodged the patches of sunlight that managed to break through the trees, coming up beside Angel as he beat the crap out of the demon driving the van. The boy was bent over the bonnet, a thin line of blood leaking from his mouth. He wasn't moving, but I fancied I could hear his heart still beating slowly. A quick look inside showed two more demons, both unconscious from the crash.

"Angel, luv," I said, pulling his arm back to stop his attack, "It's out cold."

Angel finally looked at the demon, bloodied and unconscious in his hands. His head turned painfully slowly toward the boy, and then he was at Connor's side, pulling the van away from his son.

"Spike," he pleaded, "help me move this."

I jogged around to the other side, hooking my hands into the grill and pulling back as hard as I could. It actually wasn't that difficult to move, with the two of us, and the van skidded back about six feet. Looking about ready to break, Angel caught the boy as he fell, cradling Connor's torso and head in his lap as he lowered him to the ground.

"Connor!" Angel barked. "Wake up!" He looked up as I knelt down beside them, and I could see he was close to crying. My chest tightened in empathetic grief.

"Oh, pet," I stroked his neck. "I'm so sorry we didn't get here sooner."

The boy stirred then, drawing a deep breath. His heartbeat sped up and his eyes fluttered open. Angel sniffed and wiped his eyes on his sleeve, hiding the tears that had almost escaped.

"Oh, man," groaned Connor, sitting up. Angel let the boy go, his expression somewhere between intense relief and grievous loss. Why loss? The lad was alive, wannit he? Then, I guessed that Angel wanted to hold on to the son who didn't remember him for just a little longer. I vowed to make the git tell me what happened and why no one else remembered this boy, who could be smooshed by a two-ton vehicle and live.

"What happened?" Connor said, standing up. How was this kid standing? Any other human would be broken in half, dead, after a hit like that. This boy seemed almost amused. Why had the Powers even sent me a vision, if this kid could live through such an assault no problem? Didn't make any sense...

I gave Angel a hand up and he approached Connor. "There was, uh," Angel looked back at me, searching for the words. "There was an accident. You got knocked out."

"Well, yeah there was an accident! Look at this van in the middle of the lawn!" Connor bounced toward the van, peering in the passenger side window. "These guys don't look so good. And I don't think it's all from the accident." He turned back to face us. "What's wrong with their faces? Do you think we should call an ambulance?"

A middle-aged couple and a teenage girl came pouring out of the house through the front door. They must be part of the new life Angel gave his son. His _son_. I was still trying to wrap my brain around that bit of absurdity.

"Connor!" yelled the woman, grabbing the boy's face in her hands like she needed the tactile reassurance her 'son' was still alive.

"How?" wondered the father, stepping toward us in a daze. "I saw that van kill you…"

"Don't be absurd, Howard. Connor's fine," she turned back to the boy. "You are fine, aren't you baby?"

"Yes, mother," he scoffed. "I'm fine. Look, no broken bones or anything. I just got knocked out for a second."

"You must have been mistaken, dear," she said back to her husband.

He pointed to the van. "Why is there blood all over the hood? Somebody got hurt, to leave that much blood."

"Dunno," Connor shrugged.

Angel stepped forward. "Mr. and Mrs. …" He paused, waiting for them to fill in the gap.

"Oh, excuse me," said the woman, smiling at Angel. "I'm Helen Dunburry," she stepped up to shake his hand. "And this is my husband, Howard." Angel shook the man's hand as well. "You men witnessed the crash?"

Angel and I exchanged a glance, and he implored me with his eyes to step up and help him out. He was never very good at improvisation.

"Uh, yeah," I said, taking my place next to Angel and nodding. "Saw the whole thing. Those bastards were tearing through here like they had the fires of hell under their feet. Downright inexcusable in a neighborhood like this." I smiled at the young girl hanging back near the house. "Full of children and puppies. Inexcusable."

"Yes, exactly," said the woman. I used my charming smile on her and she blushed. It amused me when her husband stepped up and put an arm around her.

The man cleared his throat, "And you two are?"

"Oh, right," said Angel, patting his jacket pockets. "Here's one of my cards. I'm Angel," he shook Mr. Dunburry's hand, "and this is my partner Spike."

"Partner?" I smirked at the appalled suggestion in Mrs. Dunburry's voice.

"Yeah," Angel said. "We work for Wolfram and Hart." The suburbanites both seemed to relax at the idea that Angel and I were just work partners. Ah, the prejudices of suburban America. I wondered what would happen if I kissed Angel a big wet one on the lips.

"The law firm?" asked the man, raising his eyebrows and holding the business card out so he could read it. "You two are lawyers? This card doesn't say."

I chortled. "I know this git looks the part in his fancy suit, but I'm no lawyer. We're private investigators, yeah?"

"Right," said Angel, shooting me a look of thanks for the alibi. I figured it was mostly true anyway. What was it that Angel called his merry band of fellows back in the day? Angel Investigations?

"Hey guys?" called Connor, his head in the van through the sliding door he must have opened while we were talking. "I think this might be something you'll want to investigate."

"Oh, that." Angel pulled Connor away from the van, sticking his own head in the van to 'investigate' the demons. "Yeah, this looks right up our alley, don't you think, Spike?"

"Sure thing, luv." Oops. I ducked my head and opened the passenger door, hoping no one had noticed the pet name. I pulled the demon from its seat, almost certain it was dead. The human adults gasped at its hideous appearance, all orange scabs and green ooze on white skin. The demon also had long, grungy teeth and stunk to high heaven. "Yeah, Angel. This looks befitting our particular brand of investigation."

Connor bent to get a closer look at the demon, breathing, "Oh, cool!" The sister squeaked and retreated into the house, watching the proceedings from a front window.

"You investigate monsters?" asked the missus, eyes wide with disbelieving fright.

"Well somebody has to, don't they, pet?" The woman blushed again at my smile. I love doing that. Angel backhanded my shoulder, lips pursed in disapproval and in response, I merely shrugged and winked at him.

"This is all very unusual," said the man. Well, duh, Sherlock. I shifted a bit, avoiding one of the last rays of light filtering through the trees. "And what's with the names? Angel? Spike? What are your last names?"

Angel looked to me again. How did he ever get along without me? "Code names, mate. We've just gotten so used to them. I'm Wesley Windham, and this here's Charles Gunn." The look Angel gave me was half praise, half disbelieving betrayal. I shrugged again, whispering in his ear, "Sorry, luv. Best I could come up with."

Angel cleared his throat and said. "I know this is all very upsetting, but we'll get everything straightened out. I believe we have a client that's been looking for these things." He thumbed over his shoulder at the demons in the van. "Just in case this wasn't a random accident, I'm going to leave my partner here, to keep an eye on you and your family. In the meantime, my people will get rid of the mess."

"Shouldn't we call the police?" asked the woman.

"Mom. Do you really think the cops want to take care of these guys?" Connor looked at his mother like she was being incredibly stupid.

"Your son is right, ma'am," said Angel. "Most times the cops find something like this, they just call us in anyways."

"Oh, okay," she said in bewilderment, looking to her husband for some reassurance.

"Why don't you folks head inside, make sure the boy doesn't have any scrapes or bruises," Angel said, ushering Connor back to his family. "Spike and I will take care of these guys and then Spike will stay here to make sure you're safe until we figure out the situation."

"If you think that's best, Mr. Gunn," the man said. "Do you really think these men – things – could have been targeting my family?"

"To my eyes, their turn into your yard looked deliberate."

Mr. Dunburry looked at the card Angel had given him again. "Well, you're the investigators." He wandered into the house behind his family and I heard the door lock behind them.

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_A/N: Please review! I love hearing from you, and I want to know if you're excited about seeing where the story goes from here. Also, if you like Bones, please take a look at my other fic 'The Brothers in the House' and leave a review. I really need some input to get that one going again. Until tomorrow..._  
_~Ptera_


	3. Part 3

Origin of the Lies – Part 3

By now the sun had set, the final glow of day fading into darkness as I approached Angel. "Sorry, Peaches. I didn't want to use Wes' name like that. 'Twas all I could think of."

"It's fine," he said through gritted teeth, pulling his phone from his pocket. He stepped away from me, flipping open the phone to call the office.

While I waited for him, I pulled the other two demons from the van, laying them out on the lawn for Angel's inspection. I didn't recognize the species of demon right away, but maybe the brains back at the office would have a better time of it.

"Clean up crew is on the way," Angel announced as he joined me. "What have we got here?"

"Not sure."

Angel bent down to inspect the demons briefly. "Yeah, me neither." He stood and determinedly looked away from me, avoiding my gaze. To catch his attention, I caught his hand in mine.

"Pet, he's fine. God knows why, but he is." I pulled him closer to me, and he still avoided my gaze. "Angel, luv. Talk to me."

"About what?" He pulled his hand out of mine, crossing the lawn to lean against the van, facing the house.

"You really think this family could still be in danger?" I asked as I followed him, leaving him the little bit of space he seemed to want.

"Yeah, I do, Spike. He's my son. If someone found out, they could be using him to get to me."

"So why don't we take him back to LA? He'll be safer there."

"I – I can't. I can't bring him into that place if I don't have to. It corrupts everything."

"Okay, pet," I said, leaning against the van next to him. "I see your point. You sure you don't want to stay behind? See to his safety yourself?"

"It's too much." Angel dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his face. "I can't be around him. It's too painful."

"Fine. I'll stay. You'll have nothin' to worry about."

He finally looked up at me, smiling a little and taking one of my hands in his. He needed the calming influence I had on him. "Thank you."

"You have to answer some of my questions, though." I insisted, pointing at him in emphasis.

Angel sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"Who's his mother? Not that _dolt_." I gestured to the house and Angel shook his head.

"Darla," he said, simply.

"Ah!" I exclaimed, snapping my fingers. "That's what I've been trying to pin down. You know, except for the hair color, he looks a lot more like her."

"I know."

"And, why didn't this van kill him? He should have been flattened, but he's walkin' around without a scratch."

"He's not entirely human."

"Then what is he?"

"No one knows. No two vampires have created a child before. He's unique."

"Where's Darla?"

"Dust. She killed herself so Connor could be born."

"Whoa. I didn't know Darla was dead again. I'm sorry, mate."

"Thanks," Angel sighed, sliding down slightly and leaning his head against my shoulder.

"So the kid went to another dimension? Grew up right away?"

"Yeah. He was gone for thirteen miserable days before he came back as a teenager. And the worst part was that he hated me."

"Why would he hate you? I mean, I can understand hating Angelus, but…"

"He was raised by one of Angelus' enemies. Holtz. Taught Connor everything about Angelus, and nothing about me."

"So, some bastard raised your son, taught him to hate you? No wonder you made everyone forget." I turned and hugged him, wrapping my arms around his chest, under his arms. When he squeezed me back, I knew he wasn't still mad at me for using his dead friend's name. "I'm so sorry, luv."

He drew back and rested his forehead on mine. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For making me talk about this. For being here. For this," Angel kissed me, softly, lips lingering together. We parted, "For looking after him in my place."

"Hey, what are friends for, mate?"

Angel chuckled. I love making him laugh. It's like a challenge, yeah? And don't you dare say it's because I'm falling for him, because it's not. It's just a way for me to be clever. Really.

"The team will be here in a minute," Angel said, giving me one last kiss before letting me go.

"I'll take up a post here on the porch, then?"

"Sure. They probably won't invite you inside, but you can keep an eye out?"

"Yeah, of course." I looked up at the house, not especially looking forward to lurking about outside. I've spent too much time doing just that. And now that I wasn't hunting anymore, I still had to lurk outside. I tilted my head a bit in thought, asking Angel, "No one ever believes my innocent face, do they?"

"Spike, you don't have an innocent face."

"You ponce! I do so have an innocent face." I showed it to him in example, eyebrows high and wide, eyes soft, mouth slightly open. Angel chuckled, clapping me on the shoulder. "No?"

"No. Not even close."

"Well I can't exactly practice in front of a mirror, now can I?"

"Why do you even need to practice, Spike? Can't you just _be_ innocent?"

"I think the whole living dead bit ruined that pudding quite awhile ago, luv."

"Just go up to the house," Angel smiled. "I think I hear the vans coming."

"Sure thing, Peaches. I've got my phone thing if you need to get in touch when you find out who these buggers are." I squeezed his hand one last time before pulling away and jogging up to the house.

Three black vans and a tow-truck rumbled down the street, pulling up in front of the house. Angel greeted the agent in charge, pointing and giving orders. Within two minutes, the demons and the white van had been removed and Angel waved goodbye to me. I saluted back sarcastically before he turned to his car, getting in and driving away.

I settled in to the porch swing, lighting a smoke and getting a better lay of the land, at least as far as the front yard was concerned. It was fairly standard, reminding me a lot of Sunnydale. The lawn was green, the pine trees were tall and well trimmed, and there was even a pink flamingo stuck into the flowerbed in front of the porch. Quite the home sweet home for Angel's boy, that's for sure.

Angel had a _son_. Some sort of vampire son, but Connor was _alive_. His heart beat. He breathed. He thought scabby demons who tried to kill him were cool. Of all the things I'd seen since coming to LA, this was by far the least expected.

It was almost completely dark when the porch light next to the front door went on. The door opened shortly afterward, Mrs. Dunburry sticking her head out. "Mr. Windham?"

"Oh," that was the name I had given, right. "Yeah, you can call me Spike. Everyone does."

"Spike, then. Would you like to join us for dinner?"

"Really?" I dropped the remainder of my cigarette onto the cement walk, putting it out with a quick twist of my boot.

"Of course! You helped my boy when he got knocked out today. It's the least I could do."

I smiled at her, "If you insist…"

"I do," she said, opening the door farther. "Please, come in."

Ah, the magic words. I passed her, entering the house Angel's son lived in. Joining his family for a nice sit-down dinner. It was very surreal.

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I paced in my office, furious. Someone attacked my son. _My. Son_. And I wasn't there in time to protect him. It didn't matter that he was fine. It mattered that I couldn't be there for him. I couldn't be the father I wanted to be. And I had tried so hard.

When Hamilton opened the door and entered my office, I stopped pacing.

"What the fuck?" I cursed at him, wanting nothing more than to bring him down and beat him to a pulp for what had almost happened to Connor. "The Senior Partners promised me Connor would be safe in his new life!"

"Am I wrong in the knowledge that he is safe?" the bastard asked, his tone that perfectly sleazy pitch that all lawyers tend to acquire. "That the 'accident' didn't cause any lasting damage?"

"That doesn't matter, Hamilton. I want answers. Who attacked him? Is this all just some scheme to get to me? To distract me?"

Hamilton even fumed politely as he stepped closer to me. Geez that guy was tall. Taller than Gunn even. "Let's get this straight, Angel," he said in a deadly quiet voice. "I am not your friend. I am not your employee. I am not a girl, and we will not be making love on that couch anytime soon." At the reminder, I thought of being with Eve during Lorne's party. Then I remembered Spike pounding me into that couch not that long ago, and I blushed. Hamilton's voice suddenly grew more pleasant. "Now, with that in mind, how can I help you?"

Pushing thoughts of Spike's prowess out of my brain, I said, "You can tell me who attacked my son, and why."

"It wasn't us, Angel. We've kept our promises to you."

"Then who was it?"

"I don't know, Angel. But I would guess that whoever it is, they're trying to get to you. And they're going through your son to do it."

After telling Hamilton how completely useless he was, I met Fred in the science lab, where the Wolfram and Hart crew had deposited the demons. She looked more frazzled than usual, her hair bunched up in weird places and her glasses slightly askew.

"Hey, Angel," she greeted, her smile a bit more bright than it had been yesterday. "What have you got?"

"Hey, Fred. Spike got a vision this afternoon. These demons were involved. They attacked a family in Pasadena." No need to mention Connor. Not really.

"How awful! Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, fine. We got there just in time," I lied, wondering for the hundredth time that day why the Powers that Be had given Spike a vision when there was almost no way we could have gotten to Connor in time to save him. Not that he needed to be saved.

"Well there's something that went right, anyways."

"Exactly," I nodded. "But I need to know what these demons are and what they were after."

"Sure thing, boss." Fred picked up a big camera, taking pictures of each of the demons' faces. When she was done, she took a piece of plastic out of the camera and plugged it into the computer on her desk.

"This program will search our database and pick the most likely candidates," she explained as images of every sort of demon flickered across her screen.

I touched the screen, almost involuntarily. "You can do that?"

"Sure!"

"This is so much better than how we used to do research."

"One of the advantages of working for Evil Incorporated, I guess."

"Hmm," I agreed, looking up and over the rest of the lab. There weren't as many people around as usual. "Where is everyone?"

"Oh," said Fred, looking down. "I sorta fired them."

"And this was because…?"

"After Knox…"

"Ah." Fred's last lab manager had brought Illyria into our house. He tried to kill Fred and was responsible for Wesley's death. I didn't blame her for her mistrust of everyone who worked for him.

"Actually," she spoke up. "Illyria did most of the firing, but I didn't stop her."

"Illyria fired your whole department?"

"Yeah, she's really good at getting rid of people."

"I've noticed," I deadpanned. "I'm just glad she didn't kill anyone this time."

"Yeah. We have an understanding." I raised my eyebrows. This whole thing – Illyria still existing in Fred's brain – was really starting to creep me out.

"An understanding?"

"She can insult whoever she wants, but she has to check with me before killing anyone."

"Alright. I'm glad you've got that under control."

I've never been so relieved as when Fred's computer beeped and she turned her attention to the screen. "It looks like we've got a match."

"What does it say?"

"It says these guys are Benslar demons. They're known to work for a sorcerer named Cyrus Vale. Some big wig in the black arts community. Why would a sorcerer want to attack this family?"

To hurt me, I thought. I couldn't discuss this possibility with Fred, since she didn't remember Connor. It was better this way, though. It was better she didn't remember all the pain and sorrow that surrounded my son. So, I lied again and gave her the best answer I could, "I don't know.

* * *

_A/N: Please review! This episode has got six more chapters to go, and I'm still working on the next episode, which is giving me a little bit of grief. If you could tell me what you like and don't like, that might help give me some ideas... In any case, thanks for reading this far!_


	4. Part 4

Origin of the Lies – Part 4

After dinner, Connor and I retired to a den at the back of the house. I figured he was the one Angel really wanted me to keep an eye on, and the boy seemed to like having me around. We played a video game for a few hours, blasting aliens into oblivion, and every now and then Connor would ask me a question. Were there lots of monsters around? What kinds of cases had we solved? Why did Angel have such funny hair? I laughed at this last one.

"Don't know, mate," I answered.

But it was the next question that caught me off guard, stopping the game. "Why aren't I dead?"

"What d'ya mean?"

"What I mean, Spike, is that I remember being crushed by that van. I remember it. And then I was waking up and I felt fine. This isn't normal."

"No, I suppose it isn't."

"So what's going on? Am I some sort of superhero?"

I should not be the one answering these questions. This was Angel's job, but the bloody bastard had left me here instead. And I had happily agreed. There was definitely something wrong with me. "I don't know. That's something you should ask Angel. He knows a lot more about those sorts of things than I do."

"Okay." Connor looked at me for a long time before asking, "What are you?"

"I don't follow."

"You aren't human."

"O' course I am."

"No you aren't. You smell completely different from a human."

"Oh." This boy really was unique. "Have the extra senses too, huh?"

"So, what are you?" He had that same dead serious look in his eye that Angel gets. Bugger, this was going to take some getting used to.

"Fine, lad, you caught me. I'm a vampire."

Connor took this piece of info in stride, studying me again. "Aren't vampires supposed to be evil blood suckers?"

"Well, yeah, most are, mate. But I've my human soul. I'm one of the good guys now."

"But you weren't always?"

"Hell, no. For a hundred and some years, I gleefully killed humans and ate them. But since I've got my soul, I'm on a strict diet of pig's blood."

"Gross."

"Ha! You don't know the half of it."

"How come you ate dinner with us?"

"Well just because I have to drink blood, doesn't mean I can't enjoy a nice roast on occasion, does it?"

"I guess not." Connor picked up his controller and turned back to the TV, but he didn't un-pause the game. He ruminated for a minute before turning back to me.

"And Angel, is he a vampire, too?"

"Hit that nail right on the head, dinnit ya? He's got a soul as well, so don't go staking him if you don't have to."

"Stakes? That actually works?"

"Sure does, mate. Don't ask me why. Universe or God or whatever certainly has a sense of humor. Bullets only sting a bit, but a wee sliver of wood could do us in given the proper aim."

"Are there lots of vampires with souls?"

"Ha! No way, mate. Angel and I are the only two."

"The only two ever?"

"That I know of. And believe me, it's a topic Angel likes to prattle on about all the time. I'm gettin' to be an expert myself."

"So you're actually living dead?"

"Yup. No pulse. Don' have to breathe if I don't want to."

"When did you die?"

"'Bout a hundred and thirty years ago."

"And Angel?"

"He's goin' on two hundred and fifty."

"That's a long time."

"Sure is, mate." This far into the conversation, it occurred to me that Angel might not want me telling all of this to his son. But it wasn't my fault the boy figured some stuff out on his own, was it? And, if there were going to be more demons, he should know enough to be able to defend himself, right? If those demons from earlier found him, it couldn't be long until others did. Plus, after lying my ass off over dinner, it was kinda nice telling the truth.

"How did you die?"

"Oh. Right. This beautiful dark goddess found me heartbroken over a silly lass. Drained the life from me and gave me back hers. I rose the next night, dead but alive and walking, and hunting. Her name was Drusilla and we terrorized most of the Old World together. God, I loved her."

"Where is she?"

"I helped stop one little apocalypse and she dumped me for a chaos demon!"

"Harsh." Connor smiled when I scoffed in agreement. "How did Angel die?"

"I think Darla offed him in an alley."

"Darla?"

I'd gone and mentioned the boy's real mother. Nice move, Spike. At least the name meant nothing to him. "Yeah," I said, skirting around the truths I couldn't say, "Darla sired Angel, Angel sired Dru, Dru sired me. One big blood-sucking family. The four of us spent about twenty years together doing evil deeds."

"What happened after twenty years?"

I told him the story of how Angel had been cursed with a soul, which I only heard in its entirety not that long ago. Then I told him the story about how I got my soul. And that led to the story about how I'd helped save the world. Half an hour later, Connor had almost run out of questions.

He looked at me again, that intense stare on his face, making me feel like I should check for a smear of dirt across my nose, or something. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before asking, "How long have you and Angel been together?"

If my heart ever beat anymore, it would have stopped in sheer panic. "What? Me and Angel? That's –"

"I saw you kissing," he said, calling my bluff.

"Ah. Right." No hiding from the truth with this kid around. What a fucking relief. "So what was the question?"

"How long have you two been together?"

"Not long. It's been about a month, I think? And it's more of a friends with benefits sort of deal, yeah?"

"But, from your stories it sounded like you and Angel both like girls."

"You live as long as we have, whelp, and you learn there's exceptions to every rule. I guess Angel's just my exception, and I'm his."

"Weird."

"Ah, you Americans and your bloody Puritan mindsets."

"Right," he said, hanging his head. "Sorry."

I was about to dismiss his apology when I heard a crash of breaking glass and a woman scream. Connor was up and out the door ridiculously fast, and I scrambled to catch up with him. Halfway down the hallway to the main room, where the crashes were coming from, I grabbed his arm and swung him back around, against the wall.

"Listen to me, lad," I hissed. "I know you want to fight, and I won't stop you. But I'm goin' in first, yeah?"

I doubt the kid had ever been intimidated before, since his eyes went wide and he nodded silently. Returning his nod, I released him as I rushed to the living room.

Two more demons were there, stomping through the remains of the picture window that looked over the front lawn before it had been shattered. As one of the demons was about to bring his crushing fist down on the father, I tackled it, bringing us both to the ground. The demon tried to bite me, so I scrambled up and out of the way. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the boy jump onto the back of the other demon, punching its head with one of his fists.

As my demon got to its feet, I sized it up and yelled back to the human family, "Get outta here!"

The demon tried to grab me, but I dropped and kicked its feet out from under it, battering it a few times while it was down. Connor flew across the room, and I scrambled to stop his demon from attacking the family now that it was free. I was a little too late, as the demon backhanded Mr. Dunburry, who crashed into an expensive looking table and was knocked out cold.

I jumped on the demon before he could hurt the girls, grabbing either side of its head with my hands and managing to break its neck swiftly with a satisfying crunch. God, I missed that sound. Leaping away so the body wouldn't land on me, I checked on the lad.

Connor was fighting the demon I had abandoned, dodging its blows and landing an uppercut that knocked the demon back and into the ceiling. Running over to it, I found the demon out cold. "Nice goin', whelp," I smiled at Connor. Astonishment washed over his face for a brief second before he remembered his family and rushed over to them. Mr. Dunburry was awake, but his head was bleeding in rivulets. My nostrils flared at the smell of his blood, and my stomach rumbled. No eating the humans, Spike, even if they did ignore your warnings and got themselves hurt.

Keeping a close eye on the demon, I dug the phone out of my inner jacket pocket, flipping it open and hitting the button that would call Angel. I shoved the unconscious demon with my toe as I waited for the big guy to pick up.

It stopped ringing and I heard a plastic clattering and then a scrape. The git had dropped his phone trying to open it! "Spike?" he answered, eventually.

I laughed at him. "Hey, Twinkletoes. Nice goin'."

"Did you call just to insult me?"

"That's an enticing idea, p-...mate, but I've got a dead demon for ya."

"The same type?"

"Yeah, think so. There's another one that's still alive. You want it for questioning?"

"No," he said. "Fred and I have a good lead on who sent them." I tucked the phone between my ear and my shoulder, bending down and snapping the second demon's neck dispassionately. I heard one of the girls gasp, and I looked back over to the family. They were all looking at me with a mixture of terror and gratefulness. Except for Connor, who was grinning widely. Oh yeah, he was Angel and Darla's son. Definitely.

"Oh, and we're gonna need a medic. Mr. Dunburry hit his head, yeah? He looks okay, but you know how fragile humans are." Connor stood up and approached me.

Angel sighed, blowing air that hissed over the mic in his phone. "Alright, hon, I think it's time to bring the kid in."

I turned my back on Connor, whispering into the phone, "Did you just call me 'hon'?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line as Angel thought about it and then cleared his throat. "It doesn't matter now, Spike. Just keep an eye out. I'm sending a car to you along with the clean-up crew. I want you to drive Connor here, just the two of you. Have the rest of the family come in the ambulance."

"What are _you_ doin', then?"

"I'm going to go pay a visit to the sorcerer responsible for this mess."

"You sure you don't want some backup?"

"I'll be fine, Spike. I'm just gonna beat up some more demons and have a chat with a sorcerer. Don't worry your pretty little head about me."

I chortled. "Alright, Ange. Any place in particular I should stash the whelp?"

"I was having Harmony prepare one of the rooms on the eighth floor for him. Instead, I'll tell her to make up a suite for the whole family."

"Eighth floor," I said again to myself. That building has way too many floors. "Okay, mate. Good luck."

"You, too, _hon_."

I smiled as I disengaged the line, pleased Angel liked me enough to use a pet name without even thinking about it. And then, when I called him on it, he used it again just to make me smile. When I turned around, Connor was shaking his head at me, smiling slightly.

"What?"

"Friends with benefits', my ass," he prodded teasingly.

"Shut up, whelp," I huffed. I don't care what it looked like. Angel and I had decided we were just friends. Friends who slept together, and lived together, and spent all our time together. Damn it. And now Angel was calling me 'hon' and I was calling him 'Ange', and I couldn't wait to see him again.

* * *

_A/N: Let me know what you thought..._


	5. Part 5

Origin of the Lies – Part 5

I fought my way through a dozen Benslar demons to get into Cyrus Vale's mansion in Beverly Hills. People say crime doesn't pay. Apparently sorcery does. I found the sorcerer in a wood paneled space that looked more like a very wide hallway than a room. At the far side, he sat - a crimson-colored demon in heavy ornate robes. Vale had at least half a dozen tubes linking him to a tree of IV fluids and his hair was sparse, gray, and disgustingly long, his fingernails extended and yellow.

"Angel!" he cried on seeing me. "I've been waiting for you. Did you have to kill _all_ of my guards?"

"All the ones I could find," I assured him, advancing toward his end of the room.

"I know why you're here, vampire," he crooned, his voice slow and husky. Just listening to him speak made me feel slimy. "It's about your son, Connor."

"How do you know about Connor?" I growled.

"Oh, don't worry, I wasn't trying to kill him. I just needed him to know what he's capable of."

"Your reasons don't concern me," I threatened, stalking closer. "I'm going to kill you in payment for the little bit of blood he lost tonight."

"You won't kill me, Angel. I _made_ Connor."

"What? You didn't make –"

"When Connor was six years old, he got lost in a department store. Scared the poor boy half to death."

"That never happened," I insisted, emphasizing my words with a finger in Vale's stupid face.

"But he remembers it happening," Vale drawled. "He remembers his mother finding him in one of the aisles and his father scooping him up into strong arms."

"You're the one who…" I realized, backing up a little.

"I built Connor's memories. I changed him, changed the whole world, actually."

"Great," I said sarcastically, growing tired with his chatter. "Thanks for the bang-up job, but I'm still gonna kill you."

Vale pulled what looked like a cubic paper lantern from behind his back. "Uh, uh, uh," he warned, and I paused. "Do you know what an Orlon Window is, Angel?"

"Can't say that I do," I replied carefully.

"Wizards such as myself use this to look at the past that once was, the past that used to be." I moved forward, but his next words stopped me in my tracks, "There's no telling what would happen if the Window should break next to someone whose memory had been changed. All those awful things that happened may come rushing back."

No! This demon had given Connor his new life, and now was threatening to take it away again. And Connor would go back to being the violent, suicidal kid who had nothing left to live for. "What do you want me to do?" I asked Vale, my voice low and angry.

"Oh, I don't need _you_ to do anything. This is a job for Connor, one he's predestined to do."

"What do you mean?"

Vale shuffled over to a cabinet on the side of the room and opened the doors, revealing an urn that looked very familiar. "It's time for Connor to return my favor, by killing Sajean."

"Why kill him? He's trapped in there, powerless."

"Ah, urns tend to break, old enemies tend to come back. And I'd rather put all my affairs in order shortly."

"Then I'll kill him for you."

"Angel, Angel. I admire your courage, but only Connor can kill Sajean. You will bring your son here, and once Sajean is dead, his debt to me will be repaid."

I tried my damnedest to come up with something, anyway I could get around Vale's manipulations. But I could see no other options. "Fine. We'll be back tomorrow."

* * *

I brought Connor all the way up to the main floor, wanting to stop by Angel's office before bringing the kid to his accommodations. Harmony was sitting at her desk, looking particularly fetching, if in an idiotic way. "Hey, Harm," I greeted her with a smile, leaning on my arms on the desk in front of her. "Is the big guy in?"

"Sorry, Blondie Bear," she said. God, I hate that nickname. "He's still away hassling some sorcerer or warlock or something." She looked behind me. "Who's the cutie?"

I looked back at the lad, who blushed under Harmony's gaze. "That's Connor," I said. "He's got some business with Angel. I think you were supposed to set up a suite for him and his folks? On the eighth floor?"

"Right! All done, Spikey. Here's the keys."

"Harm," I said, keeping my voice low. "I thought we talked about this 'Spikey' business."

"Oh," she blushed. "Sorry, Spike. I'll try to remember."

"Yeah, you do that," I said, pointing at her in emphasis as I showed Connor back to the lifts.

As we walked away, Connor said, "She's cute."

"Don't even think about it, Short Round." I told him, jabbing the button to call the lift. "Harmony's a vamp. The evil kind without a soul."

"Yeah, I noticed. But she seemed nice."

"She's only nice on the outside, mate. Besides, there isn't much goin' on upstairs, if you know what I mean."

"Sure."

We rode the lift down to eighth floor and I showed Connor the suite. He seemed to enjoy the decadence, turning on all the lights, the TV, the stereo system. I let him play around for a little while before getting his attention.

"Hey, whelp. What say we get you to your folks? See how your da is gettin' on?"

"Oh! Yeah, we should do that," he said, looking chagrined for enjoying himself.

I turned and was about to open the door when I heard Angel's footsteps approaching. His scent preceded him and I almost shivered as I drew it in, remembering the feel of him against me. I flung open the door before he could knock, smiling. "Oi, Angel," I said, unable to keep myself from touching his arm. "Look who's here."

"Hi, Connor," Angel said, waving awkwardly.

"Hey."

"I just came from the medical wing," he told us, stepping through the doorway and closer to me. I fought the urge to press myself against him and breathe him in. Angel continued, "Your dad's going to be fine. He's in good hands…Or claws, as the case may be. Anyway, they're good doctors."

"Can I see him?"

"Yeah sure," Angel said, making his way past me and further into the room. "In a minute. There's something I have to tell you first."

"Okay," Connor crossed his arms over his chest and gave Angel a level, steady look.

"I found out who sent all those demons after you. It's a sorcerer named Cyrus Vale. He wants you to kill a demon called Sajean."

"Why would I do that?"

"Well," Angel said, crossing his own arms. They looked so similar in that moment, I finally saw them as father and son. Before, I was just taking it on faith, believing Angel blindly. Now I saw and I understood. Angel continued, "Vale has made some convincing threats."

"What kind of threats?"

Sighing, Angel responded, "The kind you really don't want to mess around with."

Connor shifted back and forth on his feet, understanding. "He's threatening my family."

Angel nodded.

"Why does Connor have to do it?" I asked. "If a demon needs killin', we can handle it."

Angel turned to me, in his angry, argumentative face. "He needs to do it because Connor's special. There's this whole prophecy thing."

"What is it with you and prophecies, Peaches?"

"I don't know…"

Connor spoke up, "So I'm the only one who can kill this Sajean guy, and if I don't, this Vale person hurts my family?"

"Pretty much," said Angel, nodding.

"When do I get started?"

I chuckled at the boy's ruthless enthusiasm. I liked this kid. Angel frowned at me, but answered, "Tomorrow. For now, I think we should get you back to your parents."

"Thanks," Connor said, as he followed me and Angel from the room. "I really appreciate it."

"Thank us when you're still alive the day after tomorrow, lad." I winked at him. "Until then, it's a bit premature."

We showed Connor to the medical suite, reuniting him with his parents and then made our way back to the penthouse alone.

"So," I began, following Angel into the kitchen when we got back to the apartment. "Boy's got to kill a demon, huh?" Angel nodded, pulling a mug from one of the cupboards. "Think he can do it?"

"I don't know," he said, quietly.

"Don't be worried, luv," I assured him, running my hands up his back. "Lad knocked out one o' those Benslar demons. He's a lot stronger than he looks."

"But," he said, shrugging me off and getting a jar of blood from the icebox, "he doesn't remember how to fight. Not like he could before."

"Then what's with this prophecy mumbo-jumbo? Isn't he the guy that's supposed to kill Vale's demon?"

"I'm beginning to think prophecies don't mean all that much." He poured the blood and popped it into the microwave.

I kept silent for a moment. I knew how important the Shanshu prophecy was to Angel, but since I'd beaten him to that damn cup, he'd lost faith. Stupid git thought he wanted to be human again and I had an inkling that his faith in that prophecy was the only thing that got him through the past few years. But now he had let go. Because of me.

"Ange, pet," I whispered, catching his eye. "Don't say that."

He just shrugged, staring at the microwave, watching the mug spin under the yellow light.

"If you don't think the prophecy is true, why can't we just go kill the bastard?"

"It doesn't work that way, Spike," Angel fumed, grabbing his mug and stalking out into the living room.

"Well then, Mr. Broody-pants, how does it work?" I asked as my voice rose to follow him into the other room. I hate it when he walks away from me.

"Connor has to fight Sajean," he growled when I caught up. "And it's gonna kill him, unless I let Vale give him back his old memories."

"Would that be so bad?"

"You didn't know him before, Spike! He was seriously damaged." Angel set his mug down on a table, but he didn't sit. Instead he turned toward me and got in my face.

"From growing up in a hell dimension?"

"Yeah, Spike. That was part of it. Hell dimension, sinking me to the bottom of the ocean, knocking up evil-Cordelia, taking a store full of people hostage. He _can't_ go back to that!"

"If it keeps him alive, pet…"

"But for how long? Until he decides to take a swan dive off the roof?"

"You're overreacting."

"No, Spike, I'm really not."

"Maybe you _want_ him to get killed. Save you the trouble of worrying about him for the rest of his life." I knew I was provoking him, forcing him to look at things all out in the open, but I wasn't prepared to dodge the punch he aimed at my head.

Stunned by the blow, I staggered a few steps back, as a laugh escaped my lips. I always find it a little funny when the git loses that tightly wound control. But he forever takes it the wrong way.

Angel growled and hit me again, and I fell to the ground. He dropped to his knees, straddling me and grabbing me by the throat. A thrill of excitement coiled in my belly as he cocked his fist back for another blow. "Take it back," he demanded.

"Ohh, I'm sorry, luv. Did I hit a little too close to the mark?"

"No," he said, through clenched teeth, hitting me again. Fiery pain blossomed from my cheek, spreading outward. I shivered and laughed again.

"Hitting me isn't going to solve the problem with your boy, luv."

"Humph," he sighed, giving my throat one last squeeze before getting up and letting me go. I was disappointed he didn't want to continue the game, but I supposed he had bigger things on his mind.

"If you don't want to give him back his memories, pet," I said as I got up, "we could show him a few things. Teach him how to fight again?"

"I'll do it," he snarled, sitting so he wasn't facing me. "You keep Fred company, try to work out what Illyria's still doing in there."

"I can help, Angel. With the boy."

"Don't. Just, don't." He stood and moved toward the bedroom. I went to follow, but he turned around, stopping me. "Do me a favor. Find somewhere else to sleep tonight."

"But!" I couldn't believe it. I'd pissed him off before, usually on purpose, and he always let me back into bed.

"I can't…" He sighed. "I can't look at you right now. We'll talk tomorrow, Spike. Just give me some space."

"Fine!" I yelled, stalking over to the lift. "Be a wanker, Peaches! I'll have no trouble finding someplace else to rest my head. Just don't come crying to me when you get lonely."

"I've managed fine for a hundred years, Spike. Don't wait up for me, I won't come."

"Great!" I concluded as I got into the lift. "I'll see you when I see you, Angel." I saluted sarcastically as the doors closed and smiled when I heard him punch a wall, the plaster cracking and crunching.

I wasn't too thrilled that he kicked me out, but I was a little relieved he was so angry with me. The end of our time together would come, according to Lorne, but I was fairly certain that would only happen when Angel grew indifferent. And his anger was anything but indifferent. Oh yeah, I was in his system now. He was gonna crave me before long, and would come crawling back. Wouldn't he?

"Shit," I muttered as I made my way back into the lobby. Most everyone, including Harmony, had left for the evening. I could go out, find a watering hole, and have a drink. Or I could break into Wesley's office and sleep on his couch, wait for morning, when maybe Angel would forgive me. Ponce that I am, I chose the latter option.

* * *

_A/N: Please remember to review!_


	6. Part 6

Origin of the Lies - Part 6

In the morning, I picked up Connor from the suite he was sharing with his family. "Hey," I greeted him when he opened the door.

"Hey, Angel," he gave me a small wave.

"Ready to get started? I'll show you some moves that may help you defeat Sajean." I couldn't keep my eyes off him, noticing how he looked grim, but underneath there was an easiness to his demeanor. A _happiness_. It rankled that I wasn't able to give that happiness to him without selling my soul to Evil, Inc. But there was no way I would let Cyrus Vale take it away from him now.

"Yeah, sure. That sounds good." Connor said goodbye to his parents, promising to stop by again before we left to face Sajean.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get you out of this," I said as we walked down the corridor toward the elevator.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Besides, this might be more fun than going to class."

"You're in college?" I knew he was old enough now, but I had kept myself from knowing any of the details of his life, to protect him. And maybe I thought it would be easier on me. But now that Connor was here, I couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah," he said, nodding as we entered the elevator.

"Where?" I pressed the button.

"Uh, Stanford," he said nonchalantly, like I might not have heard of it.

My heart swelled with pride. "Really?" My son The Scholar…it sounded a lot nicer than The Destroyer.

"Yeah, sure." We left the corridor, and Connor looked around as we walked. "Is all this yours?"

"Well, I'm in charge of it, anyway," I smiled at him, eagerly soaking up any approval he might give me.

"Cool."

We were approaching the doors to the training room near Fred's lab when Spike came flying out of them, crashing against the wall on the far side of the hall.

"You filthy little harlot!" he cried, getting up and slamming back through the doors. I don't even think he saw us, which was odd; Spike always notices when I'm nearby. And who would he call a harlot? Why was he being thrown through the training room doors? It had been less than twelve hours since I'd had my eye on him, and already he had gotten himself into trouble.

"Wanna meet some of my co-workers?" I asked Connor as we approached the doors. I looked through the window to make sure Spike wasn't going to come sailing back out before leading Connor into the room.

"Hey!" I yelled in fright, when I caught sight of Spike about to punch Fred in the face. He paused, looking back at me. Fred had been standing defiantly, chin up and standing her ground against him, but she turned her attention over to me as well. "What's going on in here?"

"Oi!" said Spike, backing toward me, but keeping his eyes on Fred. "It innit what it looks like, luv! She started it," he accused, pointing.

"Fred?"

"I maintain that the half-breed is at fault."

"Oh. Illyria," I realized. "Did _you_ throw Spike from the room just now?"

In response, she tilted her head, staring at Connor, who was standing beside me and smiling like an idiot. Or a normal teenager, I guess.

"Bint did throw me, pet. Take care, she's stronger than she looks."

"She's still human, Spike. You could have killed her." God damn idiot never thought things through. Threw punches and hurtful words before he even realized what he was doing.

"I've been _tryin'_ to hit her for ten minutes," he insisted. "Ever since she swiped my lighter."

"This fight is over a _lighter_?"

"What else would we fight about?"

"I don't know, Spike," I said angrily. I still wasn't ready to deal with him. I turned to Connor, only to find he and Illyria were staring at each other.

"This one's body grows warm," she said. "He lusts after me."

Connor coughed and blushed, looking down. "Um. Sorry. I guess I've always had a thing for older women."

Muttering, I said, "They were supposed to fix that."

"What?" Spike asked.

"Nothing. Connor, you know Spike, and this is usually Fred," I said, pointing to the woman, "but today she's going by Illyria."

"Uh. Nice to meet you," he said, sticking out his hand for her to shake. Illyria looked at it for a moment before turning to me.

"Angel. I wished to speak to you."

"About what, Illyria?"

"Fred is very concerned about the sorcerer Cyrus Vale. He has influence over several of the most powerful practitioners in this dimension. Fred believes nothing good can come of working for him."

"And why isn't Fred speaking with me?"

"Fred is asleep."

"Great," I sighed. "And anyway, we're not working for him. Connor's going to fulfill this prophecy, kill a demon, end of story."

"I find your world view naïve at best."

"Thanks, Illyria. Why don't you go back to the lab and let Fred wake up?"

She stared at me for a moment, and I swore her brown eyes were lighter than before, with flecks of blue in them. I _really_ had to get Lorne to find some way to get Illyria out of Fred's mind. Straightening as she turned, she said, "I go because it suits me."

"Sure," I said, facing Spike. "Would you go keep an eye on her? Make sure she lets Fred come back?"

"I thought I'd help you teach the lad," he said, almost hopefully.

I thought about what he'd said; how I wanted Connor dead so I wouldn't have to worry about him. It couldn't be true, could it? "No, Spike," I decided, not trusting him enough to respect my decisions when it came to my son.

"But…"

"No. Go keep an eye on Illyria, or go bug Harmony or Lorne, just don't be here right now."

"Fine!" he yelled, stomping from the room like an angry toddler. God, he was getting on my nerves lately. I sighed and turned, coming face to face with Connor.

"You okay?" he asked, nodding toward the doors where Spike had just left the room.

"What? Oh, Spike? Why wouldn't I be okay?" He had caught me unawares and I was sure my lie didn't sound as convincing as I had meant it.

"Because you and he…" he let the suggestion hang in the air.

"No! I mean, we're not…" I could feel my cheeks blushing, well as much as they could blush. "Did he tell you that?"

"Dude. I saw you kiss him." He gave me a reassuring smile.

"Oh." I tried to leave it at that, but Connor just kept looking at me, brows raised in expectation. "He just gets on my nerves sometimes."

"Uh, huh."

"Let's just do this, okay?" I said, moving further into the room.

"Yeah, sure." Connor followed, standing to face me on the mats in the center of the room. "How does this work? I've only been in one fight in my life, and Spike was there to bail me out."

"You can do it," I assured him. "You just have to keep a few things in mind. First, you're strong, but you're not invincible."

"So, like, what am I? Spike said I should ask you."

Hmm. What to tell him? "As far as we can tell, you're human." He gave me a look that said he knew there was more to it. Grudgingly, I added, "With enhanced abilities."

"So I _am_ a superhero!" He smiled. "Cool!"

"Yeah, don't let it go to your head. Sajean isn't exactly human either. But you're faster than him. Use that to your advantage."

"How?"

"I'll show you." I tried to think of anything else he might need to know. "Sajean likes to talk a lot. But don't let him. And I'll be right there, helping you out."

"So you're what? Gonna hold him down while I stab him to death?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

"That doesn't seem fair."

"Nothing in life is really fair."

"No," he resolved. "If I'm going to do this, it's going to be my way." Connor sighed, "Now I just need to figure out what my way is."

I was torn between wanting to protect him, and being proud that he had refused my help, that he wanted to do this the right and honorable way.

"Okay," I agreed, and we began sparring. I taught him everything I could think of, everything I thought he could use and pull off correctly with only a few hours to practice, praying that it would be enough.

* * *

_A/N: Reviews please?_


	7. Part 7

_A/N: As you might notice, there's something a little different about this part, compared to everything else you've seen from me in this series. It's a little short, but I wanted this scene to stand on its own. I hope you like it!_

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Origin of the Lies - Part 7

I woke in my lab, standing. "That's odd," I said out loud, looking down to realize I was dressed in clothes I wouldn't normally wear. They were all tight and stretchy and almost inappropriate. "Illyria," I complained as I threw a lab coat over the outfit to regain at least some of my modesty.

"I learned many things while you were unconscious," she said, using my own mouth to talk to me. Grr. I hated having her in there, spying on me, thinking thoughts that weren't mine. But she just wouldn't go.

"What did you learn, Illyria?"

"The light-colored half-breed…"

"Spike," I reminded her. She doesn't bother remembering names of 'lesser beings' if she doesn't have to.

"He is most amusing to hit."

I laughed, imagining her beating up on Spike. But then I realized that Spike likes to fight back, and I sobered. "You could have gotten us killed, fighting with Spike!"

"He could not hit us. His combat style is quite predictable."

"Really?" I asked sarcastically. Hell, I couldn't tell the difference between predictable and unpredictable fightin' styles.

Illyria nodded my head. "It was quite easy to avoid being hit. I have also learned how to use your muscles more efficiently, making us stronger.

"Oh, dear." I inspected one of my arms, making sure it was just the same size as when I'd last seen it.

"Then I observed a lovers' quarrel between Angel and the other half-breed."

"A _what_? No, you've got to be mistaken, Illyria."

"If you say so." Wondering why the demon in my brain never used human gestures like the shrug, I almost missed it when she started to retreat back into the depths of my brain, probably to get some rest.

"Wait," I said, calling her back. "Did you learn anything about Cyrus Vale?"

"The green one wanted my help searching the records. I told him paperwork was for lesser beings."

"Of course you did." I shook my head and went to go find Lorne, who was pouring over a pile of papers in the conference room next to Angel's office.

"Hey," I said, waving as I joined him.

"Ah, Freddlekins! So glad to have you back, cookie."

"Yeah. Illyria told me you wanted some help going through these records."

He laughed, a little nervously. "You bet." He pushed a stack of papers across the table at me. "These are accounts payable from the last year. We're looking for the last job Cyrus Vale was paid for."

"Alrighty," I said, flipping over the first folder, labeled 'March'. "I'm sorry about Illyria," I said, apologizing about whatever she had said to him earlier.

"Thanks." He smiled up at me. "You know, just between you and me, pumpkin? That demon in your head really freaks me out."

"At least you don't have to share a brain with it."

He chuckled and we both turned back to our piles of paper. After a few minutes, he spoke up again. "Hey!" he said excitedly. "I think I've found it. This says Cyrus Vale did a huge job for the company the same day we took over."

"Does it say what he did?"

"No, but I found another record that says he's really big into memory modification."

"Memory modification? Whose memory? Do you think we could have been _changed_?" I felt so violated. "Is that why we agreed to work here?"

"Something was changed, anyways."

"There should be a record of it, right? I mean, this place is OCD when it comes to recording everything. Everything has a paper trail."

"You'd know better than I would, sweetcakes."

"Wanna come with me down to the records room?"

"As fun as that sounds, I'm gonna have to pass." He shook down his jacket sleeve so he could see his watch. "Good lord! I've got a meeting in five minutes with a very unhappy diva."

"Okay. Thanks, Lorne. I'll see what I can find out from here on."

"Sure thing, Fred!" Lorne called as he sashayed away.

I set aside the file Lorne had found and straightened out the rest of them, putting them in order so Harmony wouldn't have to try to do it. Then, I took the file that mentioned Cyrus Vale down to the records room. This creepy, almost robotic attendant down there showed me to the correct aisle.

"What are you hoping to find?" asked Illyria as we walked down the aisle, searching for the correct drawer.

"If we're going to help this kid, Connor, it would be useful to know what Cyrus Vale changed."

"You ought to ask what Angel would want changed."

"Illyria! Why would you say something like that? It's not very nice."

"I am not _nice_. I say this because the change occurred on the same day Angel became king of this place."

I came to the correct drawer and opened it, paging back through the folders. "I can't think of anything Angel would want to change so much that Wolfram and Hart would pay this magician six figures to get it done."

"Perhaps it is because your memories have been altered."

I gasped, "They have?"

"In places."

"Oh, lord! Can you see what was there before?"

Illyria paused and I waited with baited breath. "No," she concluded. "The memories are gone."

"Then how can you tell they've been changed?"

"There is a mystical scarring. I am not surprised you never noticed it. Your species is barely above the common house fly when it comes to harnessing the power of magics."

"Gee, thanks for the complement, Illyria."

"You are welcome."

I scoffed in response and continued to page through the folders, finally coming to the one I'd been looking for. As I read, my stomach grew heavier and heavier with anxious denial. "No. It can't be."

Illyria had to have the last word, "But it _is_."


	8. Part 8

Origin of the Lies - Part 8

I let Connor rest for a few hours after our sparring session so he could eat some lunch and say goodbye to his parents. His fake parents.

While I waited, I sat up in my apartment, really not in the mood for dealing with the lawyers today. Soon I would have to bring Connor to his probable death. I asked myself again whether I thought he had a better chance of survival living in ignorance or if I let Cyrus Vale give him his memory back. On the one hand, the prophecy said that Connor would kill Sajean, so maybe he didn't need his memories back. On the other hand, prophecies didn't have to mean that much. Sajean had even written a prophecy saying I would kill Connor.

That thought brought me around to thinking about Wesley. He hadn't been on my mind as much lately, though I still felt a jabbing pain in my chest whenever he was. Wesley took Connor from me because of that fucking false prophecy, and I had almost killed him for it. And now Wes was well and truly dead, and I felt guilty for not thinking of him more often.

I wandered around the penthouse, looking for signs that Spike had been here since the day before. I still couldn't believe what he'd said to me. Wait. Scratch that. I _could_ believe what he'd said to me. It was classic Spike, saying something so hurtful and so true. I was only surprised he hadn't said something as equally infuriating earlier.

Maybe he had, and I just didn't notice because we'd been fucking as often as we could. Whenever I'd been pissed at him lately, Spike had turned it into sex on me. That sly bastard! If that was what he was doing this time, he'd gone too far. Suggesting I wanted Connor dead?

I wanted Connor alive and happy. And yes, maybe I was getting really sick of worrying about him, but that's what being a parent means. Doesn't it? I'd rather Connor lived and I spent the rest of my existence in misery than outlive him while he was still so young. I wondered if I made sure he got through this fight, made sure he never had to fight again, would he age like a normal human? In sixty, seventy years, would I outlive my son anyway?

On reflex, I stood, looking for Spike so I could discuss it with him. But when I was standing, I realized I'd kicked him out and I was still mad at him. Damn it. How had he insinuated himself into my life so thoroughly in a few short weeks? Was it his blood? Was it the sex? Was it the way he made me furious and amused at the same time? Was it the way he made me laugh? Was it the way he curled himself around me while we were sleeping?

Fuck. It was all those things. And he'd gone and screwed it up by pushing me too far. I wondered if this was the 'eventually' Lorne had been speaking of when he said my relationship with Spike would end badly. Was this the end? Caught between despair at the thought of losing him and anger that he'd made me feel this way, I stood up and punched another hole in the wall, slightly satisfied when the plaster crumbled to dust. If this was going to be a choice between Connor and Spike, as much as I hated the thought, I'd choose Connor every time. Spike may be blood of my blood, but Connor was my son – flesh and bone and blood. And it was time to bring him to his possible doom.

Sighing, I found my jacket and stuffed my arms into the sleeves, shrugging it on as I made my way down to Connor's room. As I was about to knock, I felt Spike, and he was close. I looked either way down the hallway and found him leaning against the wall at the end of the corridor. He looked up at me and we just stared at each other for a moment. Then, Spike gave me a little salute and turned the corner, moving away and out of sight. What did that mean?

Shrugging, I knocked on the door, which Connor opened immediately. "Ready to go?" I asked.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Let's get this over with."

I drove him to Vale's place, the car eerily silent during the trip. When we were almost there, I asked him, "Are you okay?"

He laughed shortly. "How am I supposed to answer that? I might die very soon."

"I'll do everything I can to see that it doesn't happen," I assured him, but he barely acknowledged me. Maybe when this was all over, Vale could make him forget again. Forget he'd met me, forget the evil law firm, forget the demons attacking his family, and forget what it feels like to take a life.

When we got there, Vale led Connor toward the alcove where Sajean's urn sat in the middle of a table amongst several weapons of different kinds. How sporting. After Connor passed the threshold into the alcove, he started and looked back at us confused. I tried to speak to him, "Connor?" but he didn't hear me, looking around and past where I was standing. Furious, I turned to Vale, threatening him with a look.

"He can't see or hear us anymore, Angel," the sorcerer said. "_He_ needs to be the one to kill Sajean."

I fumed at Vale's trickery, but when he waved that fucking Orlon window at me in a warning, I turned away to focus on Connor. My son stood all alone in that room as he opened the urn, letting Sajean's essence flow from the vessel, a glowing bright light that formed itself into a being. The demon loosened up and stretched while Connor just stood there, _talking_ to him. My heart fell and if I was still alive, it would have stopped beating in terror.

"No!" I yelled, trying to make Connor hear me. "I told you not to let him talk. Hit him now!" I turned toward Vale, giving him an intimidating look and snarling, "I seriously can't get in there?"

He smiled and held out the Orlon Window. "Not if you want to keep your precious son's memories intact. As they are now, without all the suffering and heartache and loss."

I growled at him in frustration, turning back to watch the fight. To my dismay, it looked like although Connor was using the moves I'd taught him, he was still losing to Sajean.

* * *

I was skulking around in Wesley's old office, smoking and trying not to think about how Angel was being a dick and had taken his son to fight that demon without me, when Lorne came in. "There you are, Goldilocks," he cried. "I've been looking all over for you!"

"Yeah, Green Jeans? What if I'm just not in the mood?"

The empath demon approached me, grabbing the cig from my lips and snubbing it out in the ashtray that used to be Angel's favorite mug. "I don't care what mood you're in, Blondie. Fred's gone to Cyrus Vale's place!"

"What?" I grabbed up my jacket and slung it on as we moved. "Why would she go there? The boy's to be fighting his demon about now."

"I found a file in her lab that says Angel approved Cyrus Vale's big contract on the day we took over this place."

I led Lorne down to the motor pool, where we could borrow one of Angel's cars. "And this would make her want to go to Vale's place, why? Angel won't want her there, and if Illyria's the one in control..."

Lorne shrugged almost all the way to his horns. "I don't know! Fred was herself the last time I saw her. All I know is Fred called a company car and ordered to be driven to Vale's address. And if you ask me, I've a feeling nothing good will come of her being there."

"Right, then, mate. Let's see if we can't throw ourselves into this fucked up mess, as well." I hopped in the driver's seat of a red sports car, barely waiting for Lorne to get in before speeding off. "Where 'm I headed, then?"

Lorne directed me through the streets of LA until we came to a big mansion surrounded by fences and gates. I parked the car on the side of the road and vaulted over the fence, letting Lorne through from the inside. Running, we followed the trail of demon guard bodies up and through the house, to a long hallway-like room at the back.

I skidded into the room just behind Fred, with Lorne right on my tail, and came face to face with a stand-off. Fred was holding a glowing box and yelling at Angel, while the ponce held out his hands at her, as if the box were very delicate. Behind them was a rather infirm looking demon, who I guessed was Cyrus Vale. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and turned my head. In another room, beyond an archway, Connor was valiantly trying to evade the attacks of a demon with oddly stretched skin who was wearing a sartorially unwise poncho. That must be the Sajean fellow everyone was talking about.

"How could you, Angel?" Fred yelled. "We trusted you and you allowed them to violate us!"

Huh? I had absolutely no idea what Fred was talking about. Violate? My eyes still on Connor, I watched as Sajean knocked him down, pinned him back on the table and started strangling the boy.

As I moved to go help him, Angel's eyes flicked away from the fight and towards Connor. "Spike!" he yelled. "Don't move!" In a softer voice he turned to Fred. "It was complicated, Fred."

"Oh, complicated? Was _this_ the price we had to pay in order to work at Wolfram and Hart?" She shook the glowing box at him, and I felt Angel's fear, even standing across the room from the bloke. "Were we your thirty pieces of silver? Was Wesley?"

"No, Fred, no!" he insisted, and my eyes followed his as they briefly checked on Connor, who was slowly getting the life squeezed out of him by the demon he was supposed to kill. "This has nothing to do with you or Wes or anybody else! This was my thing, _my_ price that _I_ had to pay."

"Well, maybe I don't believe you, Angel," Fred shrieked, her voice oddly caught between maniacal and vulnerable. "You know, _he_," Fred pointed to the sorcerer and waved the box at Angel again, "said that this will bring back the past!"

"Fred," Angel whispered gently, as she lifted her arm, preparing to smash the box, "it won't work. It won't bring him back."

I couldn't just stand there while the boy, Angel's son, died, so I started inching around Fred and Angel's altercation, heading for the other fight. Maybe if I saved Connor, Angel wouldn't be mad at me anymore. Plus, I liked the lad. Oh, and that's right, it was the proper, heroic thing to do.

"Well it can't be any worse," hissed Fred, smashing the box on the ground.

"No!" cried Angel, taking a few steps toward Fred.

Bugger that, I thought as I launched toward the demon killing Connor, intending to knock the lad free of his attacker. Instead of completing my trajectory as planned, I bounced off some bloody invisible wall and landed on the ground just short of where Connor handily decapitated the demon with a sure swipe of his axe. Had Angel taught him that in a few short hours? Good on him, then. The demon's head rolled from the alcove where the boy had been fighting and past me out into the main room.

Angel rushed toward his son while I stood, prodding at the air I had mysteriously bounced off of just a few moments earlier. What the fuck was going on? Fred collapsed into Lorne's arms, sobbing and the green demon didn't look too far from joining her in the waterworks. Why? What had happened to them when that cube was smashed? I barely caught a glimpse of Cyrus Vale sidling away before finding myself at Angel's side again. When had I become such a bloody creature of habit?

"Oh, hi," Connor said as Angel touched him. The lad looked almost confused. "That guy made me really grumpy."

"Yeah, I can see that," Angel muttered, glancing to where the head had rolled. I saw his eyes glance further up to watch Lorne help Fred onto her feet and out of the room. "Spike?" he asked me and my heart leapt at the fact that he was actually talking to me, "could you make sure they get home safely?"

Fuck. I'd been hoping he'd ask me to help him with Connor, but that was just too much to expect, wasn't it? "Uh, yeah, okay," I stammered starting to leave and then thinking better of it and turning back. "What was that box, Ange? What's wrong with them?"

Angel sighed and gave me that look that said he'd run out of patience with me eons ago. "Just some bad memories…"

Fine. If the git wanted to be cryptic, fine. No skin off my back. None of my never mind. Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, Spike. Keep telling yourself that.

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_  
A/N: I just wanted to say, thanks for reading this far! I really appreciate it. One more chapter in this episode, so stay tuned for tomorrow._


	9. Part 9

Origin of the Lies – Part 9

I was standing in my office, looking out the window when Connor found me to say goodbye. "Hey," he said, getting my attention. "Isn't sunlight supposed to burn you up?"

"Oh," I chuckled softly and pointed to the window. "Special glass."

"You should, like, make a whole suit of that stuff."

I tilted my head at his suggestion, wondering if they could really do that.

"Anyway, I just came to say thanks."

"Hey," I said, "it didn't look like you even needed any of my help. You beat that demon on your own." I couldn't help but add, "I'm proud of you." That was weird, wasn't it? Some guy Connor had barely met, saying he was proud of him?

Shrugging, he put a hand to his throat, which was barely bruised just a few hours after being wrung. "Yeah, that guy made me really cranky. I guess don't like people touching my neck."

"Sure…" I wondered how to talk to him now. Apart from his spectacular execution of Sajean, he hadn't given any indications that he'd gotten his memory back. So what did we have in common, if he didn't remember being my family? "How's your dad doing?"

He nodded, "Better. They're letting him go home with us right now."

"Good." Connor could go back to his happy life, where he didn't know me enough to hate me.

"You know, fighting that guy was super scary, but I'm glad I did it."

"Why?"

He looked into my eyes, keeping them there as he said, "I did it to protect my family. I'd do anything for them."

As we stared at each other, I got the odd impression that he was telling me more than he was saying. Did he remember? Could he be forgiving me for what I'd done?

"Anyways," Connor said, breaking my gaze. "I've got to get back to my life. I don't think this whole demon-killing thing is really for me."

"Of course," I said, reaching out to cuff him on the arm. I wanted to hug him, but if he really didn't remember who I was, how could I explain it? "Hey, let me know if you ever need anything."

"Sure. See ya, Angel." Connor walked away, looking back once to wave at me.

"Goodbye, Connor."

As he walked out of sight, I turned my thoughts back to Fred. She had broken the Orlon Window and allowed her memories to return. All those pieces of Connor's presence in her life were back and buzzing around in that overactive brain of hers. I'd tried to go see her after leaving Vale's, but Lorne warned me off, saying she needed some alone time. I hoped she'd realize in time why I'd changed her memories and would get over the disappointment that the Orlon Window didn't turn back time and make Wesley magically alive again. He was dead, and we had to move on. Right?

Sitting on the couch in my office ten minutes later, I looked up when I felt, then heard Spike approaching. I sighed and turned to face him, surprised by how excited I was to see him. We'd only had our fight the day before, and already I craved him. But I wouldn't apologize for needing some space after what he'd said. I wouldn't.

"Spike," I nodded, noting how defeated he looked. Though his face was fairly neutral, he wasn't his usual bouncy self as he approached me.

"Hi, Angel," he said softly. "I just said goodbye to the boy." He gestured implicitly for permission to sit next to me. I nodded carefully, watching as he sat, facing forward. Feeling him there, next to me, I fought the urge to touch him, the urge to slip into the familiar comfort of blood family. But I wouldn't be the one to break down. Spike had gone too far, and I wouldn't apologize for calling him on it. I wouldn't apologize for protecting myself.

We sat in silence for a minute before I asked, "Did you come here for a reason?"

"Can't a bloke just sit for a few minutes?"

"You could sit anywhere, Spike. Why are you sitting with me?" I shifted in my seat, bringing one leg further up onto the couch as I turned my whole body to look at him. Why did he have to be so beautiful? But, no, I wouldn't be the one to break first.

"Still mad at me, yeah, luv?" The words didn't sound right in that depressed voice of his.

"You know I am," I said sternly.

"Everything turned out for the best…"

"This isn't about how it turned out, Spike," I told him, a pit of anger rising in my belly over his attempts to just smooth this over. "This is about what you said."

"I'm not going to apologize for saying something you needed to hear, pet." Spike's voice rose, colored by a bit of anger to match mine.

"I _needed_ to hear _that_?" I asked snidely.

Spike finally turned to face me, eyes blazing. "Yeah, Angel. You did. You needed to realize that surviving today is better than worrying about what will happen tomorrow."

I scoffed, "Says the man that never thinks about tomorrow."

"Maybe I don't think that much, pet. But at least I'm not over-thinking a good thing. And at least I don't wallow around in what has been and what might be, like _some_ people."

Fuck. He was trying to provoke me again. And it was working. "Why do you do that?" I asked.

"Do what? Live in the present?"

"Why do you try so hard to get to me, to make me mad at you?"

Glares shot back and forth between us, but Spike refused to answer, keeping his lips pressed together in a tight line. Getting fed up, I turned away from him, moving to stand and leave him to his silent self. But then he caught my wrist, pulling me so I had to stay seated, so I had to turn and look at him.

In a low voice, he muttered, "Maybe…"

"Maybe what, Spike? If you insist on getting on my nerves, how can you expect me to keep you around?"

"Maybe I like it better when you're mad at me." I caught a whiff of the first stirrings of his arousal. Provoked by the smell and the irritating way he was skirting around whatever needed to be said, I pounced on him, holding him down by the throat, pressing him down into the arm of the couch. His eyes dilated and his nostrils flared as I held him, but he didn't fight to get away.

"_What_ do you like better, Spike?" I growled, fairly certain I already knew the answer.

"The shaggin', alright? I like it better when you're mean."

"You'd rather I was Angelus?" I asked him, savagely. "You'd rather fuck him instead? 'Cause we could call up Buffy and try to arrange that for you."

"Don't be such a wanker, Angel," he shot back, struggling under me without much conviction. "I'd never want Angelus. He'd just use me and toss me aside. I don't need that cruelty."

Is that what I'd done? Used Spike to get over losing Cordy and Wesley? Used him to make myself feel better, then tossed him away the first time he'd upset me? I had to believe I was better than that. I had to believe I might actually care about Spike. So, keeping the rage in my voice, I asked, "What _do_ you need?"

He sucked in a gasp of excitement. "I need…" he started, trying to push me back. "I need to argue and struggle before you take me, luv. I need it to hurt."

"And you thought that instead of telling me this," I snarled, keeping my grip on him, "you'd just say hurtful things until you got your way?"

"Well…yeah?"

"That has to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"

"Well, I don't always think with the head on my shoulders, now do I, luv?"

We looked at each other for a moment as I still held him down, fighting not to chuckle at his words. He'd almost admitted he was wrong, and that was probably the best apology I was ever going to get out of him. Realizing that I might be able to forgive Spike and that his needs and mine might just be matched up at the moment, I stood quickly, throwing him towards the elevators by a strong grip on his coat. "Get upstairs, Spike."

He stood, puffing up his chest defiantly, "No, you bloody git. I'll stay right here, thank you very much."

"Okay," I stepped back, "this is really going to get bad if I can't tell whether you're struggling because you want me, or because you don't want me."

"Can't you smell the difference, Peaches?" He approached me, letting me know by his scent that he really wanted me now. And god damn, it was working on me.

Struggling to keep my face from changing, I explained, "If you change your mind halfway through, I don't think I could."

"How 'bout a word, pet? Somethin' I'll say only if I really want you to stop."

I wrinkled my brow at him. "Seriously? Like what?"

"I dunno. It's gotta be something I'd never ever say on accident. Like, goldfish or banjo."

I laughed at the absurdity. "If you said something like that, I might just stop in confusion."

"Goldfish it is, pet. Unless I say that, you can rest assured I'm enjoying myself."

I stepped closer and pushed Spike's shoulder, sneering "If you don't get on the elevator right now, you'll only be enjoying _yourself _for the foreseeable future, Precious."

Spike coiled up and threw a punch that I easily blocked, grabbing him by the lapels of his coat and tossing him backward so he landed on his ass. Smirking, Spike jumped up again. "If you want me on that elevator, Angel, you're gonna have to make me."

"That can be arranged," I growled, but I had a suspicion I was smiling at him through the fierce demeanor. As the elevator doors behind Spike opened, I charged at him, grabbing his wrists and pinning him against the back wall. "You're going to pay for what you said. You're going to make it up to me, Spike, over and over again until I'm satisfied you've learned your lesson."

Grinning, he broke my hold on his wrists and managed to push me away so I crashed into the now-closed elevator doors. "Maybe you're the one who's gonna pay for kicking me out of bed, luv."

"Don't count on it," I said, landing a punch on his stomach, then when the doors opened throwing him from the elevator so he ended sprawled on the floor. Before he could get up, I straddled him, punching him once in the face for good measure. I growled at the smell of the blood that trickled from his mouth and leaned down to capture his bloody lips in a searing kiss. Shit, his blood was fantastic, so spicy and bittersweet.

As we parted, Spike found enough leverage to punch me in the ribs, knocking me off of him. He changed faces and tried to bite me, but I dodged out of the way, letting him fall on his face. We crashed around the apartment for a while, stealing kisses and nips of blood, until I stunned him long enough to carry him into the bedroom slung over my shoulder.

I threw him down on the bed and wrestled him out of his shirt, not really noticing when he tore mine. Grabbing both of his hands in one of mine, I managed to undo his pants with the other, pulling them down around his ankles. Spike was still fighting me occasionally, but his cock was extremely hard as I brushed it with my fingers. He shuddered and sighed under my touch.

I pumped him for a short amount of time before stopping.

"Oi! You stupid git," he yelled. "What're you doing?" He tried to push me over, to take what he wanted from me, but I fought him back and he ended up on the floor. I stood up on the opposite side of the bed, removing the remaining bits of my shirt and letting my pants and boxers fall to the floor while Spike righted himself, kicking away his pants.

I eyed him, noting the provocative bruises forming lightly on his face and chest, the bites and blood marring his neck. "C'mon, you nancy," he taunted. "Come and get me."

"Don't think I won't," I countered, stalking around the bed toward him. "Don't think I can't take you and show you just how weak you really are."

"Fuck you, Angel," he said, throwing a punch that narrowly missed my face. "I beat you to that cup. _I_ beat _you_."

"Once. You beat me once, junior," I said, grabbing him around the torso as he slid by me, trying for another punch. I threw him down onto the bed, face up so his hips were off the edge of the bed. I sat on his chest and used both of my hands to hold his arms above his head. "If you want to win this time, precious, you're going to have to do something for me first."

"No," he said, as I angled my dick toward his mouth. In retaliation, I twisted back one of his thumbs, not quite hard enough to break anything, but only just shy. "Hey, ow!"

"You want me to do the other one, too?" I growled, letting him know I wasn't kidding with a long look. But I also gave him plenty of time to tell me to stop, which he didn't.

"Yeah, you prick. If you want anything from me, you'll have to do the other," he spat, looking up at me defiantly.

"If that's what you want," I warned, twisting his thumb back slowly as I kept his gaze in mine. The arousal rolling off his skin was almost palpable.

Spike grimaced in pain, but he didn't break my gaze. Not even as he reached up to take my cock into his mouth. "Oh," I breathed at the contact, letting go of his thumbs, but keeping his hands pinned far over his head. As he drew me in further, panting through his nose in arousal, I shifted my knees back and my hips forward to give him a better angle.

"That's it. Oh, fuck, that's good, Spike." I mumbled, letting him draw me in further, rocking my hips in and out. After I'd let him adjust for a few minutes, I started thrusting into his mouth harder, feeling the thrill of excitement slice through my belly and sit at the base of my spine. "Let me know if you want to say anything," I told him, now realizing I wouldn't be able to tell if he wanted to stop while I was filling his mouth.

Spike looked up at me and nodded, so I drew back. "Ange, you're insufferable and fat and you have stupid hair."

I laughed cruelly. "Is that all you have to say before I fuck your mouth like there's no tomorrow?"

Spike shivered and went silent, taking me back in and swallowing me down, sucking and twirling his tongue around me. Oh, God. He was so good. Not warm exactly, but tight and wet. I shifted again and he tilted his head back, making room for me as I stroked in and out of him. Holding him down like this, with his blood in my system and the smell of his need surrounding me, I couldn't help thrusting into him harder, faster. Even when his teeth banged into me, I didn't slow down, pushing myself into him as far as I could, gripping his wrists tightly, stretching his arms out, punishing him for making me mad.

And he took it. He took me down, writhing under me, pulling his arms down to fight my grip and sucking me like crazy. And then when he hummed, I lost it, groaning as I emptied myself inside him with a few extra thrusts.

"Oh," I panted as I let him go, rolling onto my back beside him. "Oh, that was good."

Spike crawled up and over me, holding his shoulders and head propped up above me, pressing his hard cock against my belly. "Does that mean you're not angry with me anymore, Peaches?" he asked.

"I guess not," I said, reaching up to kiss him. "But in the future, could you try to separate the real stuff, the real arguments, from your need to get off on my anger?"

"I can try, pet," he shrugged. "But it's all the real stuff that pushes your buttons so nicely."

"Ugh. And you want me to be the sadistic one here."

Spike laughed, kissing me again. "Sometimes," he agreed, dipping down for another kiss, letting me know with a searing press of lips how much he still needed me. "Sometimes, this is good too," he crooned, trailing gentle kisses down my neck and squeezing one of my hands in his.

* * *

_A/N: The end! Of this episode anyways. I'm not done yet with the next episode, though it's in fairly good shape. I've started posting 'Tempestuous Time Bomb' chapters every other day, so you can pick the story back up there. After that episode, I'm working on a tour-de-force sort of three-and-a-half episode long story to follow and finish up the season. No title yet, but it starts off at my favorite episode of season 5 - 'The Girl in Question'._

_If you want, I've got a few more stories you might like to check out. As part of this Angel/Spike universe, I've got a fic called 'Remembering' that happens much later on and stands pretty well on its own. My Bones story, 'The Brothers in the House' is a crossover with Dollhouse (though Dollhouse knowledge isn't required to enjoy it) and it's coming along well. I've also started an Angel/Buffy human AU that's getting pretty good reviews, called 'The Prizefighter'._

_Make sure to check out these authors, who have been really supportive of my stuff and always have great work: Happyangstywriter, Angel's blue eyed girl, and Pyropadawan.  
_

_Thanks again for sticking with me this far down the road. I'm having a lot of fun, and I hope you are too. If you can, please give feedback on this episode. I take all the reviews seriously, and usually they make my writing just that much better._

_~Ptera  
_


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